seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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naranjo

more and more that ache of fiddles quivering and sliding down my scalp, each drop of rain

and the memory of you leaving your boots beside the door,

i told you not to slip

we filled bowls with fruit and set them around the house

and unscrewed the table top to stretch it out and make it wider and i had always wanted a large table to sit under, more spaces to hide away in, and copper streaks of sun made their way in as the rain stopped, off-beat

23:27 - 06 March, 2004

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